


Animal House

by ao3afterdark



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Bestiality, M/M, Other, carver makes a few enemies and a few "friends", look when a friend says "hey what about carver" my immediate response is this, transgender!carver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 01:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7738033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ao3afterdark/pseuds/ao3afterdark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a new soldier at Ostagar, Carver is hazed by his fellow soldiers, with results he could hardly have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Animal House

Carver's face twisted. He almost physically backed up a step but aborted the movement before it had truly begun. "You want me to what?"

The pair of soldiers, men he was only passingly familiar with from training, grinned at him. "Everyone has to do it," one of them said. "Its tradition."

"Its tradition to streak naked through the mabari kennels?" Carver asked incredulously, taking that step forward, instead of back. "Are you listening to yourself? Who in blazes would do that?"

"I did," the first man said easily," lifting scarred brows to smile at him, a smile that he would later come to regard only with suspicion. Now, it was wasn't exactly reassuring. "You saying you're brave enough to sign up for the army but not enough to walk a few feet through dogs? Sleeping dogs?"

"Fuck you," Carver growled, but he was uncertain now, his eyes flickering to the second man, who merely nodded along, and. While Carver wasn't exactly the type to refuse dares when everything he defined himself by was being questioned, there was one other thing to consider.

The first man apparently was following his train of thought well enough to guess where this was going, because he said, "We can turn around while you undress, if you want," and this bit of unexpected kindness made Carver bristle.

"Fine!" He snapped. "Fine. Just shut up and- and let me do this. Once I'm done, though," he said, pushing a finger close to them both, "I never want to see you two again outside of training until I've decided you're worth my time again. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they both said, and then there was nothing for it but to roughly shove his clothes off, nearly hurling them down from nerves and a bubbling mix of emotions that made his mouth twist into a silent snarl. Then, hesitating a moment, two, he lifted deliberately steady hands to pull his binder over his head. Freed, his unbound breasts swayed with the movement as he dropped his binder down atop his other clothes. He shot a hard, challenging glare at both men, daring them to say something, anything, but though their eyes lingered on him, they were smart enough at least to say nothing.

"Let's just get this over with, Carver snarled, shoving away from the hand one of them offered, pushing through the unlocked gate to the kennels.

He realized almost at once that something was wrong. And that something was everything. The mabari weren't asleep. They were rising up on their haunches, mouths dropping open as they started to circle around and behind him, pushing him deeper into the huddle of beasts. "Hey!" He hissed, just loud enough to be heard over the rumble of panted breaths, "This is enough! Come help me, for Andraste's sake!" He certainly didn't want to be caught by the ash warriors in this position. He knew them, knew and respected their stories as he respected little else, and he definitely didn't want to find out what they would think of this. Or him.

He turned, twisted half around to call again, just as a mabari lunged at him, knocking him down onto his hands and knees and blowing the words out of him all in a rush. He lay on the ground, stunned, his ass in the air, a position he very quickly started to fear, because the mabari wasn't attacking him, as he'd first thought. This was worse, he realized as the mabari shoved itself higher on his back, much worse.

He felt something hard and slick prodding between his cheeks, searching for his cunt. He had just enough time to lift his eyes to catch sight of wide, horrified eyes over the fence, and then the mabari was pushing inside him.

He was dry, and it hurt, it hurt.

This was nothing like the slow, laughing hours he and Peaches had spent exploring each other. This was just bursts of friction, again and again, a hot iron bar inside the core of him, and he was crying out, or maybe just crying. It was almost impossible to tell. The mabari panted warm by his ear, ropes of drool dripping down his shoulder, and then he let out a harsh, quiet scream as teeth closed around his shoulder and the mabari started to speed up. Pain burst through him from both directions, and it was impossible to hold back pained grunts with every hard thrust.

Just get it over with, he though numbly, already trying to push this whole thing behind him. This never happened. Never. Happened. Just one more thing to bury in the plot he kept inside his head for places and people and events that should never be thought of again.

He didn't have even the sanctuary of his thoughts to hide, in, however. He'd assumed the dog would come and that would be it, but he hadn't exactly looked close when his older sibling's mabari rutted the other village dogs. He realized there was one very, very big difference as the mabari's cock swelled inside him between thrusts, filled him up so that he let out an involuntary noise that startled him.

This time, it didn't feel quite like it had before. Stretched wide, every thrust brought with it a tingling rush that made him gasp, made him jerk and try to pull away from the mabari, but it hauled him back.

Only now did he find his voice. "Help!" He didn't care anymore about pride or consequences, he wanted out, he wanted this to stop. "Someone help me!" But there was no outcry. No one, he realized, was coming.

No one except for the dog atop him, shoving inside him once, twice more and then hot warmth was flooding inside him, dripping down his legs as the mabari pulled out, slow liquid heat that made him squirm, only half from relief.

It was over.

He sagged, trying to muffle the sobs building up in his chest. This was his second mistake. By the time he realized this, it was too late, a second mabari was bearing him down, pushing its cock inside him in one long thrust, eased by the other mabari's cum and his own slowly building arousal. And he knew that's what it was. Had felt it before, when Peaches had pushed vegetables inside him, and just as before, he let out a shaking moan. Despit himself, he started to push back, earning an approving growl as the mabari started to take him hard and fast.

Beyond him, he could hear the dogs fighting. Over who got to fuck him next he supposed, distantly, but he didn't have the thought to spare for it. By the time the fifth mabari climbed atop him and shoved inside his sopping wet cunt, Carver was moaning helplessly, hopelessly, spreading his legs wide to admit the mabari's every thrust. Droopl spattered his shoulders as it bore him down to the ground with every hard thrust, wringing out moan after moan and, even more shameful, pleas. "Don't stop, don't, don't," he gasped into the dirt, his hips leaping up to follow after the mabari when it seemed like it was starting to withdraw, but it was only to shove a thicker, knotted cock into him, driving every scrap of air out of him. Carver could only tremble as the mabari drove in and out of him, faster and faster and faster until he keened, he wailed, and it wasn't enough, still wasn't enough, because the mabari was coming all too soon.

Carver sobbed as it finally withdrew, a broken, cracking sound that cracked and fell apart when it met the air. He lifted his tearstained face to see the two men who had brought him here wading through the pile of yawning dogs to lift him up, he thought, to pull him free of the kennel. But then the first man's grip on his shoulder tightened, and he was being bent almost in half and the man was crooning in his ear that he made such a pretty bitch as he shoved two fingers inside Carver's sorely used cunt. Carver whined at the overstimulation and twisted, raising shaking hands to push at the man's chest. They hovered halfway there, twisting in on themselves as the man spread his fingers inside him and scissored them back and forth, wringing out a profane noise Carver hadn't even known he was capable of.

"There we are," the man panted, eyes avid on Carver as he worked his fingers in and out, gasping in time with Carver as he ran his other hand down an unresisting Carver's spine, chuckling breathlessly at the shivers this wrung out of Carver. So he did it again, dragging his nails until Carver bucked, moaning when this pushed the man's fingers deeper inside him. "You should have seen yourself," the man said. "You sure this was your first time doing this? You know what they say about Ferelden farm boys..."

Carver started to snarl until the second man, the one he had almost forgotten about until now, took hold of his jaw. He had just enough time to take in his smile as the man warned him, "Mind your teeth, if you want to keep them" and then he was feeding his cock into Carver's mouth.

Carver gagged almost at once. He'd never done this before --had wanted to, in those quiet urges that made him blush and fumble and grumble at Bethany's teasing, but he'd always told himself it wasn't the right time, when in truth there never had been one, not for him-- and he retched, started to struggle. This only encouraged both men, and they bore down on him, pushing into him from either side until he lay shivering, spread wide and full, dizzied as the man from behind added a third and fourth finger. They both started to push in and out of him, all three men moaning in unison.

The man fucking his mouth had to grip Carver's hair, swearing, as the vibrations ran through his cock. "I think he has," he laughed slowly rocking his hips to bury himself in Carver's mouth again and again, unable to look away from the drool and precum glistening on his every thrust. "He's fucking terrible. Practice only on the dogs, did you?" He panted, pulling back his hair with rough hands to use as leverage, shoving him down on his cock harder, faster, until it was hard to breathe between the cock and the warm coils of heat spreading in his gut.

He clenched his eyes shut tight, but it was impossible no keep them closed, not with the fingers dragging in and out of his cunt achingly, frustratingly slow. He writhed between them. He was almost grateful his mouth was full because he might well have begged to be fucked, the way he had with the dogs, and fresh shame burned hot as the two men panted and swore and the air filled with the wet slap of skin on skin.

Why wasn't anyone coming by? He wondered again, but there was to be no answer.

The second man grunted out a fervent, "Oh fuck," as his hips started to stutter against Carver, fucking him deep until he hit the back od Carver's throat, making his eyes burn with involuntary tears, and then the man was pulling out of his mouth at last only to spend himself on Carver's face with a long, loud groan. Hot strings of cum spattered into his mouth and dripped down his unbound breasts, making him sob, then again when the man told him what a good whore he was. He didn't bother to tuck himself away, just watched with satisfaction as, without his hands to hold him up, Carver dropped bonelessly to the ground.

His clawed fingers dug furrows in the dirt as he gasped, writhing when the man behind him yanked his fingers free only to planted a boot on him and grind him down. He lifted bleary eyes. The first man was hard --Carver could see him tenting the front of his uniform-- but he made no move to grab Carver again, just smiled down at him and bowed at the waist, told him to enjoy his evening as they turned and sauntered away, leaving Carver to curl around himself and his aching, burning emptiness with a sob.


End file.
